Archive of Our Own

Upon meeting Itadori Yuji, it was extremely difficult to picture him with blood on his hands, despite what his file said about him.

This kid? Satoru thought doubtfully. Holding a knife?

And then the kid said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, “I have a demon in my head.”

“Really?” Satoru deadpanned. “Is that why you did it?”

Itadori Yuji smiled sadly and nodded.

-

Gojo Satoru had gotten the email about his new patient the day before he returned to work.

He had been one of two psychiatrists at Kiseki Mental Health Institute for almost three years. It had been his first job following his residency and Satoru had known from the moment that he read about it online that it was a place that he would be willing to dedicate his life to.

Mental health services, support, and care were poorly handled in all of Japan, to say the least. There was a terrible stigma against those of different mental faculties throughout the entire country, as a result of a long-standing culture of viewing mental struggles as a weakness that anyone would be embarrassed to admit. This was despite the ridiculous suicide rate that plagued every region like a virus—but in Japan, unfortunately, it was far less shameful to admit that an uncle had killed himself than to admit that an uncle was in a mental facility receiving help. This was especially true when it came to people from more rural areas.

Satoru despised that line of belief and the system that it had put into place. He’d hunted through every nook and cranny of the Tokyo Region for facilities that had supposedly be put in place to help people, but every last one of them was more prison-like than the last, made to brush the problems under the rug so that well-adjusted, normal people wouldn’t have to see them. Few, if any, cared about actually helping the patients involved. They would rather make it their goal to keep their patients away from civilized society, instead.

Which was fucking stupid.

Gojo Satoru had become a psychiatrist, had gone through more than a decade of schooling, to help people. And that’s what he was going to do.

Kiseki Mental Health Institute, KMHI, provided the perfect opportunity for him to do so.

The Institute had been opened shortly before Satoru’s residency had been finished by a mentor of his; Dr. Yaga Masamichi. He’d studied under the man during school and he had been someone that had inspired Satoru’s ideas about changing the way mental health services were seen in Japan via research and treatment. So, when Dr. Yaga had reached out to him, asking Satoru to join him at his research facility, Satoru hadn’t hesitated to accept.

The schedule and location perhaps weren’t so ideal for people who didn’t live and breathe for work, but it had never been an issue for Satoru. Even on his weekends, when he was down in Tokyo, Satoru still found himself running through his notes and putting in orders through email, his heart never quite leaving Mount Takanosu, at the base of which the facility was tucked.

Satoru had been checking his emails at a cafe a block from his apartment building when a new message had popped in, pinging quietly for his attention. New patient intake.

“Finally,” Satoru murmured to himself. He hadn’t gotten a new patient in weeks.

Quantity wasn’t necessarily a goal of his, but Satoru was as fascinated by psychology as any other psychiatrist. He enjoyed meeting new people with strange views of the world and picking apart their thought processes.

He brought his sweet coffee to his lips, whipped cream sticking to his upper lip as he opened up the file. Itadori Yuji, it read. Fifteen years old.

In the boy’s picture in the corner of his file, Satoru was surprised to see a bright smile—a smile beaming with so much force that the kid’s eyes were thin creasants and deep dimples tugged at freckled cheeks. It wasn’t often that the teenagers Satoru worked with had such lively expressions. Satoru couldn’t help a pang of fondness, before he’d even began reading the boy’s medical history.

Satoru’s lips curled down as he scrolled through the document.

Four minutes later, he was pressing his phone to his ear with a frown as it rang.

He could tell by the fact that he had to wait six rings for an answer that the man on the other line only picked up reluctantly.

“...Satoru,” the man greeted, unimpressed and grouchy. “It’s Sunday. What have I told you about taking your time off more seriously?”

“Oh, don’t be a hypocrite, you were the one who just sent me a work email,” Satoru pointed out, amused. “Seems like neither of us can stay away, eh?”

“You’re going to burn yourself out and quit within five years if you keep doing this.”

“I’ll quit when you quit,” Satoru snorted. “Now, more importantly, are you losing your touch in your old age? Why doesn’t his file include his family history or any diagnosis?”

“You need hobbies,” Yaga said dryly. “We didn’t get any information about that. His initial intake was done at Sugiwaara Hospital, in Sendai, and they didn’t have the crisis staff to do an in-depth evaluation. It isn’t unusual—most of our patients up until this point have been those the mental health system had already tried and failed to treat, that’s all. Itadori is a fresh face.”

“Then why are we taking him? Don’t get me wrong, he’s a cute kid, but isn’t it hasty to pick up someone who might not need long-term care?”

“He will,” Yaga said, no doubt in his voice. “I spoke a bit with his guardian over the phone. The violence was sudden, but the boy’s conviction in his delusions are unshakable. You’ll be responsible for his first complete evaluation tomorrow. You can fill in the file for yourself, then.”

“Can I talk to his guardian, too? Will they be there tomorrow?”

“Yes. And plan on giving me a tentative diagnosis by the end of the week.”

“Sure,” Satoru smiled, feeling a bit giddy at the idea. “Aw, is this why you finally gave me a patient instead of Yuki? Want to see how I do without a previously declared diagnosis?”

“Yuki gets new patients because she actually manages to discharge her patients in a timely manner,” Yaga reminded him, irritated. “Just do your job. Your weekly check-ins will be done by Ijichi tomorrow while you’re conducting the evaluation.”

“Sounds good. Also, I have hobbies.”

“Like what?”

“Like—”

Satoru glanced around the cafe with squinted eyes over his sunglasses. He spotted a potted plant.

“—gardening,” Satoru said. “I love gardening.”

“You live in an apartment building,” Yaga said flatly. “On the top floor.”

“Yeah, well…I like gardening with the kids.”

Yaga scoffed and Satoru could imagine him shaking his head. “I’m hanging up. Don’t open your damn emails again until tomorrow. Go on a date, Satoru. Or anything that isn’t obsessing over your work.”

“You know, most employers would love to have—!” Satoru sputtered in offense, but Yaga had already hung up on him.

Satoru rolled his eyes at his phone and let out a dramatic sigh for only himself to hear.

Like every Monday morning, Satoru woke up far before the sun had risen to head up to KHMI. It was a two hour drive from his downtown penthouse, the roads becoming thin and winding as soon as the landscape turned from Tokyo’s suburban outskirts to the mountain range west of the city. The trees became tall and looming in their grand greenery, the darkness of the sky slowly lightening as it got closer to sunrise.

Satoru listened to silence, his mind running over Itadori Yuji’s information, every word of his file stamped in Satoru’s mind with his impeccable memory. His curiosity grew and grew—he couldn’t wait to get a sneak peak into Itadori’s head. What would drive a fifteen-year-old kid to do something like that?

Satoru parked in the fenced-off lot and walked into work alongside the other staff members getting on shift.

“Nanamin! You’re back this week?” He greeted one of the nurses walking in with his duffle bag. “You didn’t even tell me!”

The blonde man frowned, continuing to walk. “I don’t think I’m required to tell you when I am or when I am not on vacation. I handle all of the nurses' scheduling and you have nothing to do with it.”

“Yeah, but I missed you while you were gone,” Satoru just smiled wider. “We’re getting a new patient in Fuji, did you see? He’s got dimples! And a tendency to stab things.”

“I’m aware,” Nanami Kento said dryly. “Because what we needed in building B was another violence risk.”

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be like that. It’s just another kid who needs help. Besides, we don’t have nearly as many violent outbursts as Haku.”

“That’s because we—” The way Nanami said ‘we’ suggested he didn’t consider Satoru to be a part of it. “—have worked tirelessly with these patients and they’ve all adapted enough to begin healing. Haku has plenty of open beds, but you’re going to stuff one more patient into B for what? We’ll have to put two to a room for him and he could upset their routines—”

“Nanamin,” Satoru interrupted. They were stopped outside of the lobby of the front-facing building. “If our goal is to re-introduce these kids into society, they’re going to have to be able to stay level-headed when their routines are changed. This will be for them as much as it will be for the new kid.”

“I’m aware of that,” Nanami argued, frowning. “But it should be done when they’re ready, not at the first sign of stability. Otherwise there’s no point to any of this.”

Satoru pressed his lips together. He didn’t think Nanami understood it the way Satoru did. Nanami was a nurse—it was part of his job to keep things peaceful and amicable on the day-to-day with the patients. That’s all he’d be thinking about. Satoru had more experience looking at the bigger picture.

“Alright,” Satoru gave in because Nanami was his friend, whether or not the nurse admitted it. “I’ll be the one evaluating him in a few hours. If it seems like he’ll be too much for them, Yuki and I will talk about a different plan. Jeez, just trust me, will you? I know these kids, too.”

Nanami huffed, waving a dismissive hand his way, then walking along the sidewalk that circled the building. He disappeared around the corner, toward building D, where the staff bedrooms and breakrooms were. A few other nurses walked that way, talking amongst each other quietly. One of them, Ino Takuma, waved at Satoru with a grin on his face.

Satoru waved back.

He walked into the main building with his laptop bag over his shoulder, wearing dress pants and a baby blue button up. His sunglasses were lifted into his hair, the spring still too young for the sun to be any more than a sliver of light beyond the mountains.

“Morning, Gojo!” The girl at the front desk, Riko, greeted with a bright smile. “New patient today! You excited or what?”

“Word travels fast, eh?” Satoru leaned against the desk, peaking over her papers. “When did Yaga say to expect him?”

Riko flipped a paper on a clipboard over, squinting as she read. “Ah—should be coming in at eight. We’ve got about two hours. Looks like he’ll be getting dropped off by a brother, Kamo Choso, legal guardian.”

Satoru had figured that based off of Itadori’s file. “How old is his brother, do you know?”

“Ah, sure, let me see his birthday…” Riko put the clipboard down and sat at her computer, booting it up. “Do anything fun over the weekend?”

“Obviously! I always do.”

Satoru did not elaborate.

“So, Kamo?”

Riko rolled her eyes, but opened the new file. “...Twenty-one, if I did that math right.”

Jeez. Satoru thought he’d read the brother got custody three years ago. Kid would have been eighteen.

But, compared to some of the sad stories that had come to KMHI, it was still pretty fortunate of a situation. Satoru wondered if Kamo would have still taken his brother to a facility if the court hadn’t mandated it after the incident that had happened.

The Institute was fully up and running when it finally hit eight o’clock. The kids would be waking up in the other buildings, administrative work was going on in the offices, and food staff would be handing out breakfasts catered to each patient. Satoru spent the time he had going through order requests in his office to make sure all of the kids under his responsibility were following their treatment plans.

Satoru got a text from Riko fifteen minutes after the hour.

Itadori had arrived and had been put in an intake room to change his clothes. His older brother was waiting in the reflection room, where they had family members sit during meetings with staff.

Satoru collected his notebook, a blue clipboard, and slipped his favorite ink pen into his shirt pocket.

He stopped by the front desk again, where Riko was crowded next to the security officer they had at the front desk, Ishigori Ryu. The two of them were muttering as they watched the security feed for the intake room. Neither noticed Satoru's approach.

He clapped the clipboard down on the table intentionally loudly, making them both lurch back.

“Gojo!” Riko scowled at him. “What was that for?”

Satoru smiled cheekily. “For fun. How’d the kid look when he came in?”

Riko and Ishigori shared a look, then a shrug. Riko said, “He seemed nice, actually. Said please and thank you and everything. He talked more than his brother did.”

Satoru leaned over the desk to get a glimpse of the security feed.

He saw a single boy sitting in the room, on one of the rounded chairs, picking at the seam of the sky blue scrub pants he’d changed into and a soft grey crewneck. There was a white bag sitting near the door with his belongings in it. He didn’t look to be manic or aggressive, at the moment. He had fluffy pink hair.

Satoru hummed in interest.

When he stepped around the desk, Ishigori stood from his chair. “I’ll come stand by if you’re going to talk to him.”

“No, it’s alright, I’m going to talk to the brother first,” Satoru waved him off. “I shouldn’t be long.”

Satoru walked down the hall and knocked on a door before entering the room.

The reflection room looked a bit like a break room, with two couches, a table surrounded by chairs, and a small kitchenette. The lighting was dim and comfortable, oftentimes holding family members or visitors who were in emotionally vulnerable places—no doubt the same way that Kamo Choso was right now.

He was sitting at the table, a foam cup of water sitting half emptied in front of him. The man himself looked older than Satoru knew him to be, with severe eye bags and lines on his face that were not unlike some of Satoru’s insomniac patients’. He wore a jacket over a hoodie, all in dark colors, his dark hair tucked behind his ears, a few strands hanging in his face. He was slumped, fingers tight on his phone in front of him—a man defeated.

When he looked up at Satoru, that defeat was heavy in his red-rimmed eyes.

“Kamo Choso?” Satoru asked. “Legal guardian of Itadori?”

He nodded, standing up to shake Satoru’s hand. “Choso is fine.”

“Gojo Satoru,” Satoru said with a smile. “I’m the psychiatrist that’ll be in charge of Yuji’s treatment while he’s here! I have a few questions for you before I speak with Yuji, if you don’t mind! I’d appreciate if you held any questions until after my chat with your brother.”

“...Sure,” Choso sat back down reluctantly. “What do you want to know?”

Satoru sat across from him, flipping open the notes he’d printed out. “I already know about what happened the other week and I’d like to go over that after the evaluation, but for now, can you give me a little spiel on your family history? What your parents were like, if they had any diagnosis of their own, what the environment was like growing up, things like that. Anything that you think could have a hand in Yuji’s mental state, honestly.”

Choso’s eyes flickered toward the door tiredly, as if making sure his brother wouldn’t bound in to interrupt. “It’s a long story. His life has been difficult, but Yuji has always faced it with a smile. He’s a good kid. He doesn’t deserve any of this, but I-I don’t know what to do.”

Choso exhaled harshly, rubbing his eyes with his hands. Satoru couldn’t blame him. He could feel the burden wafting off of him in waves of grief.

“Relax,” Satoru told said evenly. “Bringing him here was the best thing you could do. Things like this aren’t just a test of willpower. We can help him here.”

Choso lifted his hands to give Satoru an annoyed look. “Relax? Have you ever watched your younger brother slice himself open with a knife and had to hold in his guts while you waited for the ambulance to get there?”

“No,” Satoru shrugged. “I haven’t. But you’re both here now and I can guarantee you that it is going to be okay. So, take a deep breath, drink some water.”

“How can you say that when you haven’t even met him?” Choso asked harshly. “You have no idea what you might be dealing with.”

“Because after you step out of this facility, your brother is going to be my patient, and I’m not planning on giving up on him until the day I die. We’re going to help him. It’ll be out of your hands at that point. All you have to do for now is tell me whatever’s important and I’ll take care of the rest.”

This is why Shoko always said it was a good thing I went to medical school; because I would have made a terrible therapist, Satoru thought to himself, not caring one bit.

Choso pressed his lips together. Satoru had a feeling they probably wouldn’t be friends under normal circumstances, but the young man at least seemed to begrudgingly respect him.

“Okay,” Choso murmured. “Fine. Yuji and I are half brothers—we share a mother. I’ve never met my father and the only person I can remember in his place was Yuji’s father, Jin. When I was young, our family was…normal. My mother and Jin loved each other, my two younger brothers, Eso and Ketchizu, were good kids. Jin accepted us like we were his own blood. Then, my mother became…sick. She began withdrawing in on herself, her personality changed—irritable, I guess you’d call it. She became pregnant with Yuji a few months later and it just got worse.

“Jin began having to take care of our mother, so I looked after my brothers and Yuji as a baby with help from Jin’s father, ojiisan. But when Yuji was three, our mother had some sort of psychotic episode and murdered Eso and Ketchizu. I walked home from ojiisan’s with Yuji and I found Jin helping her cover it up. He said that our mother was sorry and that she hadn’t meant to do it—”

Choso’s hand curled into a fist on the table, but he closed his eyes and sighed. Satoru waited silently, his pen softly scratching across his notepad as he recorded the story. Satoru’s eyebrows were already attempting to escape his forehead with how high they’d risen—he hadn’t been expecting this level of drama.

“I’m sorry for your losses,” Satoru said when Choso didn’t continue.

“It was a long time ago,” Choso murmured. “It’s fine. The police found out, of course, and my mother confessed to everything, but she killed herself before she could be taken to trial. Jin was sentenced to life in prison and we were put under the guardianship of Yuji’s grandfather. Ojiisan cared for us, but he had his own issues. He was convinced that our mother’s horrific actions had come because she’d been possessed during her last few years. Because of it, he believed that Yuji was marked by demons or born from them, somehow.”

Satoru hummed, tapping his pen against his notepad. “Did he abuse either of you?”

“Not exactly,” Choso sighed again. He slipped a hand around his foam cup to twist it around. “He loved us and I handled Yuji for the most part. Yuji was an easy kid, he was always—happy. He’d always been happy and kind. Ojiisan just…didn’t let Yuji forget what our mother had done, as some sort of warning. Told Yuji that if he ever felt like the demon came back to do the same thing to him, it would be better for him to—he never said the words outright, but he implied that Yuji should kill himself so that he wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Sounds like a recipe to end up in a place like this alright, Satoru thought to himself grimly. He nodded at Choso, adding a few more notes down. Mother with undetermined delusional disorder (probably began in her late twenties), a lack of stable parental figures in childhood possibly leading to unstable shelter and food source, and a grandfather who impressed his own delusions onto the kid from youth…

It was a miracle that Choso wasn’t a patient at a mental facility of his own.

“I’m sorry to hear all of that. You’ve both led an incredibly hard life.”

“Yeah, well…” Choso dragged his distant eyes back to Satoru, focusing on him. “We’ve been just fine. Yuji’s a strong kid. He never let it get to him, never took it personally. Ojiisan died a few years ago and I took full custody. I thought…I thought that we would finally put it all behind us. I thought we could start over, just the two of us and maybe just live our damn lives.”

“When did you first notice Yuji’s symptoms?”

Choso shrugged under his jacket, rubbing his temple. He looked exhausted. “I don’t…I don’t know. About a year ago, maybe. I tried to…I told myself I was paranoid, in the beginning. He started getting nightmares and flinching at nothing. He dropped some of his clubs, stopped spending as much time with friends. Then he started telling me about what he was seeing. I tried to help him, we came up with our own strategies, but nothing lasted.”

“Has he hurt himself before this?” Satoru asked. “Or expressed any want to hurt himself or others?”

“He’s never hurt anyone,” Choso said firmly. “He’s never mentioned it and he’s never wanted to kill himself, either. There was one other time where he cut himself under his eyes—I took him to the ER, he said he wasn’t planning on doing it again, so I…I believed him. I just didn’t leave him alone, but then this…”

Satoru hummed in acknowledgement. He underlined some notes, stamped a period at the end of a sentence, then put his pen down. He didn’t necessarily want to become too biased based on Choso’s perspective, so he’d rather hear the rest from Yuji himself and get more details from his brother later.

Satoru stood from the chair, tucking it back in.

“Alright, I think that’s enough for now,” Satoru told the young man. He flipped his papers over and tucked them into the clipboard once more. “Thanks for telling me all of that. I’m sure it was tough to re-live. Is there anything else you’d want me to know before chatting with Yuji?”

“Dr. Gojo—”

“Just Gojo—yeesh, you make me feel old.” Satoru put a hand up.

“Gojo,” Choso corrected. He stood up, too, his gaze somber and steadfast. “Yuji is a good kid. He has a gentle soul, he doesn’t deserve any of this. And he’s all I have. If I could-If I could trade our places I would in a second. Please…Please help him. I just want my baby brother to be okay.”

Choso had the desperate, misty eyes of a young man who had never stooped low enough to beg anyone for anything in his entire life. And yet, here he was, a tattoo across his nose to intimidate anyone who might be forced to meet his gaze, looking out at Satoru through eyes bordering on tears. Satoru believed that Choso didn’t love a thing in the world more than Yuji.

It was as refreshing to see as it was heartbreaking. Most of Satoru’s patients barely had anyone who cared about them outside of the facility, much less someone who cared as much as Choso seemed to.

“Helping him get to a place where he’ll be able to safely leave is my only job. I promise that everyone here is going to do everything in their power to make sure that he’s okay.”

Choso nodded, sitting back down with all the weight of the world.

“After my evaluation, we’ll give you and Yuji a chance to say your goodbyes and you’ll get all the paperwork from one of our admins. My contact information will be in there, too, and you can email me any time. If you have any questions about the facility or visitation, talk to her, yeah?”

“Alright, but—” Choso’s voice wavered. Satoru raised his brow as he tucked his clipboard back under his arm. “Can you…give me an estimate, at least? When I’ll get to see him again.”

Satoru smiled apologetically. “We don’t usually do free visitation here, sorry to say. Our focus is long-term care and outside factors tend to do more harm than good with patients like ours—I’m sure you understand. We do supervised calls most Sundays and in-person visits on the first Sunday of every month.”

“Two weeks from now?” Choso muttered under his breath.

“Yep!” Satoru gave him a thumbs up.

“Can I—Will I be able to text him at all?”

“Nope! We’re actually going to send you home with his phone and other stuff.”

“What about-What about letters? Or care packages? So that he knows I’m still here and I haven’t—”

“Choso.” Satoru cut him off, tone not unkind. “None of those things are out of the question for the future, but no contact this week while we’re all getting to know each other. Yuji has to learn to be comfortable with the staff here, too. Don’t worry, no one’s going to let him think you abandoned him, alright? I’m going to go talk to him now—hold more questions for later. Cool?”

Choso reluctantly nodded, head slumping down into his hands.

Satoru waited, willing to reassure Choso further if he truly did have more anxiety-driven questions—but Choso didn’t move to lift his head again. Satoru bowed his head in silent acknowledgement, then stepped out of the reflection room.

Ichiguri spotted him coming from the room and stood up to join Satoru. Only a few more steps down the hall, the rest of the facility was blocked off by badge-access doors that plagued many of the hallways. It beeped in approval at Satoru’s badge, then let him through.

A second security officer, Laure, was already standing at the door of Intake 1. For safety reasons, the intake rooms didn’t lock, and although Yuji didn’t seem like he was attempting to escape judging by the security feed, they couldn’t really afford a flight risk at the moment. Yuji had been ordered to a facility by the courts, after all, and since they’d picked up his case, the law would be expecting them to hold the kid.

“Beauitufl morning, isn’t it?” Satoru told Laure, chipper. “Especially for an eval.”

Laure grunted wordlessly.

Ichiguri sighed, saying, “Whatever you say, Gojo. We’ll be at the door, as usual. Try not to get too close this time.”

Satoru chuckled his words off.

Laure opened the door for him and Satoru stepped inside.

The intake room was painted a soft, sleepy purple, though the two chairs in the room weren’t the most comfortable in the world. The boy still sat down and had been drumming a bored beat into either side of the chair, stopping when Satoru stepped into the room.

Itadori Yuji looked older than he had in the picture. He had circles under his eyes and twin scars just above his cheekbones, long and curved. Through the sweatshirt he’d been given, Satoru could tell he was an athletic kid, very different from the usual malnourished patients he often worked with.

Other than that, the boy very well could have been transported straight from that moment in the picture Satoru had seen—his freckles and dimples remained, his hair in the same haircut of soft curls, and his eyes were surprisingly bright with life.

He smiled at Satoru when he walked in.

“Good morning!” Satoru greeted, reflecting the demeanor. “Itadori Yuji, right?”

“Yes, sir,” the boy said, seeming relieved. “Are you the doctor?”

“I am! Gojo Satoru, at your service,” Satoru gave a short bow for the dramatics. “I’m going to be your psychiatrist while you’re here. It’s good to meet you—can I call you Yuji?”

The boy nodded. “I’m glad to meet you, too! Thank you for the clothes, they’re really soft.”

He picked at the front of the crewneck with that smile. Satoru huffed in amusement as he sat down across from the boy.

“Ah, glad you like them. Not upset about having to change?”

Yuji shrugged, dropping his hand. “Nah, it’s okay, I figured it’d happen. My brother’s going to take my stuff, right?”

“Correct! He’ll take it all home for you and keep it safe,” Satoru confirmed.

“Thank you,” Yuji said in an exhale. “I do really like those shoes.”

Satoru smiled. “Probably a bit better than those ones we gave you. Do those ones fit alright, at least?”

Yuji lifted a foot up, wearing a plain white sneaker with velcro across the top in the place of laces. He rolled the bottoms of his feet on the ground, but he didn’t seem at all upset. “Yeah, they fit perfectly. It’s okay. Really cushion-y.”

“Good, good,” Satoru hummed. He felt alight with excitement himself. Yuji seemed so normal! Satoru couldn’t wait to learn what would drive a kid like this to violence. “Now, Yuji, I’m here so that we can get to know each other and get a head start on finding out how to help you. I’m going to be asking a lot of questions, but it’s alright if you don’t know all the answers—and feel free to ask all the questions you want, too. Any burning curiosities before we get started?”

Yuji’s lively eyes became a little sad and his smile weakened. “Ah, is my…How’s my brother doing?”

Yuji almost seemed piteous for his brother, rather than for himself. He seemed to have accepted this situation much quicker, despite the one getting his freedom taken away. Interesting!

“He’s very worried about you,” Satoru said honestly, sombering his voice a bit. “Seems like he loves you a lot. But he’ll be alright, I think.”

“Is he drinking water? He always forgets to drink water,” Yuji said with a sigh.

Satoru huffed, his smile returning to amused. “Yes, in fact, I saw it myself.”

Yuji nodded, shoulders slumping a bit. “Thanks, doc.”

“Gojo is just fine, kid,” Satoru waved him away. “I don’t know if you were told, but the two of you will get to say goodbye after all this, too. You’ll be able to see for yourself. Then, I’ll take you on a tour of the facility! We have lots of fun things to do, I’m sure you’ll find something you’ll enjoy here!”

Yuji’s bright smile returned and his eyes lit up. Satoru’s enthusiasm had never had quite such success on a patient before! He liked Yuji.

“Alright, Yuji, why don’t you tell me about yourself? What are the most important things people should know about you?”

“I started going to Sugisawa High School this year and my favorite class is art,” Yuji reported dutifully, and a bit sheepishly. “I’m not very good at it, though. Oh! And my favorite celebrity is Jennifer Lawerence. I could watch her movies all day. I like sci-fi the best though—and the manga I’m reading right now is Battle Angel Alita. It’s sort of sad but the fight scenes are really cool.”

Satoru snapped his fingers and pointed at Yuji. “Hey, I read that one a few years ago. It was pretty cool, but at the end—”

“Wait, please!” Yuji looked aghast. “No spoilers.”

Satoru chuckled, flipping open his notes. “Alright, alright, I’ll let you have the suspense. So, Yuji, tell me—How are you feeling right now? Are you having any suicidal or homicidal thoughts?”

“No, sir,” Yuji shook his head, slipping his hands under his thighs to sit on them.

“Can you tell me where you are right now? What day of the week it is? Do you know the date?”

Yuji answered each question correctly.

“And how’s your wound?”

Yuji shrugged, lifting his shirt enough to reveal the gauze taped across his abdomen. They were stained and angry—Satoru made a note at the top of his pad to have them checked out by the end of the day.

“It’s sore, but I’m okay,” Yuji said casually, nudging the edge of the gauze before dropping the shirt down. “I promise I’ve been following all the steps to take care of it, like my last doctor told me.”

“That’s very good, Yuji,” Satoru told him. “I’m happy to hear that. Would you be willing to tell me how you got hurt like that?”

“Oh, yeah.” Yuji’s smile turned piteous again, like he felt bad for having to tell Satoru. “I have a demon in my head.”

Satoru quirked a brow. “Really? Is that why you did it?”

Yuji smiled and nodded. “I know you won’t believe me and that’s okay. It sounds crazy and I probably wouldn’t believe me, either. I don’t want to die and I didn’t really want to hurt myself, but it was the only way to protect my brother. The demon was trying to possess me and if he did, then he’d do all kinds of horrible things to Choso and I don’t ever want to let that happen.”

Satoru pursed his lips, leaning forward. “How do you know this demon was trying to possess you?”

“He told me.”

“Like, a voice in your head?”

“No, I mean—I can see him. He was standing right next to me. And I know that no one else can, so it’s okay that you think I’m crazy.”

“Do you see him often?”

Yuji nodded. A bit quieter, he admitted, “All the time. Well, I guess not all of the time, but most of the time.”

Yuji’s eyes remained stubbornly steady on Satoru’s clipboard, flickering up to Satoru’s face.

“Is he here right now?” Satoru asked evenly.

Yuji nodded, shifting his legs where he sat on his hands.

“Is he saying anything?”

Yuji shook his head. “No, not right now. He doesn’t like talking to me anymore because I’ve ignored him a lot.”

“But you weren’t able to ignore him last week?”

Yuji’s smile wavered and he pressed his lips together. His eyes dropped back to Satoru’s clipboard and he shook his head again. The brightness of his eyes dimmed for a moment—a haunted look in them that Satoru was far more familiar with.

“No, um…” Yuji’s thumb drummed softly against the chair. “Sometimes when I’m really tired or hungry, he makes me see other things. Like-Like things that he would do if he ever took control of me or things that just aren’t real that make everything really confusing. And sometimes I have a hard time knowing where I am or how I got there and it kind of, ah, freaks me out.”

“I see…” Satoru said, scribbling notes down like his life depended on it while barely glancing down at them. “Is there anything that you see or hear that other people can’t besides this demon figure and all of the things related to him?”

“No, not really,” Yuji said, more confident. “But sometimes I can tell when days are going to be bad because there’s this smell that Choso always says he doesn’t notice.”

“What sort of smell?”

Yuji tugged his lower lip in. “It’s like…metallic. Coppery, I guess? Like holding a coin right under your nose.”

Something in the way Yuji’s words halted told Satoru that he wasn’t quite being honest about that part—but Satoru wouldn’t expect him to be. He was sure the kid saw all sorts of horrific things that he wouldn’t want to talk about. Satoru wasn’t interested in pushing him during their first meeting.

“You say that you know no one else can see or hear this demon,” Satoru pointed out. “What makes you so sure that he could have possessed you and why did you think stabbing yourself would stop it?”

“Because,” Yuji said sadly. “It already happened to my mom. And I just figured if I was dying, the demon wouldn’t want my body then. It worked out, so…”

Worked out? Satoru thought doubtfully, looking at the boy in bandages and scrubs, and imagining the defeated young man with his head in his hands in the next room.

“Yuji,” Satoru said seriously. “If you think the demon is trying to possess you again, will you try to hurt yourself to stop it?”

“I…” Yuji’s voice wavered. He glanced up at Satoru, eyes soft and apologetic. “You seem really nice, I don’t want to lie to you and say no. I know it’s not what you want to hear, but…but if I can’t stop it any other way, I’ll do whatever I have to.”

“Okay…thanks for being honest with me,” Satoru said, trying to keep his sigh quiet. “I’m not going to lie to you either. If you try to hurt yourself here, we will stop you. But, if it makes you feel better, if you do try to hurt anyone else, we’ll stop you from doing that, too. Possessed or not.”

Yuji’s lips parted, as if to speak, but the words didn’t come out. He nodded and rubbed his eyes, his voice a bit more of a croak. “...Thank you. I’m really relieved to hear that, sir. I really just—I just don’t want to hurt anyone. Especially Choso.”

“That’s very admirable of you,” Satoru said gently. Satoru was not a therapist…but something about Yuji made him want to reassure him that everything was going to be alright. “You seem like a really tough kid to be handling all of this by yourself for so long. Most people wouldn’t be able to smile like you do.”

Yuji took it as his cue and smiled despite his misty eyes. And it was a real smile, too, that tugged at his dimples, not just something he put on for show. Yuji was proud of himself. Satoru was happy to see it.

“Anyway,” Satoru continued, tapping his pen on his notebook. “Have you ever taken any medications long-term, prescribed or over-the-counter?”

Yuji shook his head.

“Recreational drugs or alcohol?”

“Nope, never.”

Satoru didn’t know about that—according to the hospital he’d come from, Yuji had an unusually high tolerance to medications. But Satoru nodded anyway.

Satoru continued down the list on the sheet that Yuji very well could have filled out on his own—but Satoru found that he enjoyed talking to the kid. Despite the directness of the somber questions, Yuji answered them in chirps and thumbs ups, occasionally side-tracking them to ask Satoru about himself.

Satoru laughed and humored Yuji, telling him about some of his time in school and about some of the staff members in the facility. Yuji even began asking his psychology questions, like a student in class. It amused Satoru to no end.

He also wanted to stretch out their evaluation to catch Yuji losing focus. Yuji was very good at pretending everything was normal. Satoru wondered if this was his baseline, or if he was trying especially hard because he knew Satoru was judging him—or maybe he just tried especially hard in front of people he was unfamiliar with.

But every once in a while, Yuji’s eyes flickered or his expression twitched and Satoru was desperately curious to know what he was seeing.

“Well, that’s all I have for my questions,” Satoru announced, sliding his paperwork back under the clip and snapping it closed. “Anything else for me before I send your brother in here?”

“No, sir, I don’t think so.”

Satoru stood and he shook Yuji’s hand. Yuji had a strong grip and a firm handshake. “You really don’t have to call me sir. Makes me feel old.”

“Ah, I feel bad just calling you Gojo. I’d be impolite. You’re my doctor.”

“You’re a funny kid. So curious, too! Tell you what, since we’re going to be spending some weeks together, I’ll be your sensei and answer all the questions you want. You can call me that instead.”

Yuji laughed brightly. “Okay, sure, sensei.”

Satoru had been joking, certainly not expecting Yuji to agree. All of Satoru’s other patients would have groaned at him and rolled their eyes at his humor. He made a noise of surprise, but he was far too amused by Yuji’s happiness to correct him.

Satoru got the urge to ruffle Yuji’s hair all of a sudden, but he held back for the sake of professionalism. “I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes to pick you up for your tour!”

Satoru left the room.

-

Satoru sat behind the front desk with Ichiguri and Riko again to watch the cameras of the intake room. It was nosy, Satoru knew, but Satoru was nothing if not incredibly nosy. It was part of his job, after all.

The three of them watched Choso and Yuji share a desperately tight hug, Choso holding the back of his head like Yuji was the most precious thing in the world. Even when Yuji tugged himself free, Choso spoke to him seriously, gripping Yuji’s face in a hand while saying something. Yuji nodded and patted his brother in reassurance, but Choso just hugged him again.

Fifteen minutes later, when Choso was walking out, all of them ignored his red flushed face and the shine of tears in his eyes. Riko handed him a few more papers for Choso to sign. He did so with a tight expression, eyes heavy with misery. He barely said a word to any of them the entire time.

“Anything else?” Choso grunted.

“No, sir,” Riko said, taking the clipboard from him. “That’s everything. Here’s that folder I was telling you about with all the parent information. You have Yuji’s things?”

Choso nodded silently, taking the folder. He slipped it into the plastic bag that Yuji had been asked to put his belongings into earlier.

“Gojo.” Choso didn’t look at him. “Please take care of him.”

Satoru took pity on him. “I will. You have my word.”

Choso nodded and turned away. He left out the glass doors and brought his hand to his face again, but didn’t look back.

“Jeez,” Riko murmured as they watched. “That was the saddest intake I’ve ever been a part of.”

Satoru could have argued with her. He’d seen a lot more intakes than her, after all. But he just patted Riko on the shoulder.

“Welp! I’m taking Yuji on his tour!” Satoru announced, walking out from behind the desk. “Will you let Shoko know we’ll be on the way to her soon?”

Riko raised her eyebrows. “You’re doing the tour? I can just call Fuji and get one of their staff to do it. Don’t you have, I dunno, doctor things to do?”

“Nah, not today. I’m a tour guide today. Give Shoko a heads up, yeah?”

“...Sure,” Riko said in disbelief.

Satoru dropped his notes off in his office, then returned to pick up Yuji from the intake room.

Yuji’s eyes were rimmed red, but he still smiled when Satoru appeared in the doorway.

Satoru opened the door further. “What do you say we get going?”

Yuji’s eyes wrinkled in delight.

Satoru, if he could be so humble, would say that he was the second best person to give a tour of Kiseki Mental Health Institute.

He walked Yuji around the campus against the advice of Ichiguri and Laure. He pointed things out and Yuji had a question about every single feature of the Institute.

The Institute was made up of four buildings with a small field in the center courtyard. A flower garden had been built outside of the west building, while outside of the east building, there was a garden made up of herbs and vegetables. The front-face building to the south was made up of their entry lobby, intakes, and cafeteria, the west building having storage and staff break and sleeping rooms. The east and north buildings were made up of patient and activity rooms.

Surrounding the Institute were the forests and rising earth of Mount Takanosu. Satoru explained to Yuji that there were plenty of hiking trails, camping spots, and a lake over the rise of the mountain that the Institute would employ in their outdoor adventures. Yuji seemed especially excited to get out into the wilderness, so Satoru felt bad breaking to him that field trips only happened on Saturdays. Yuji didn’t lose any steam hearing this, asking about climbing and ropes courses.

They ran into a few staff members walking the ground, but Satoru made a wide berth around any patients who were out and about with their escorts. Yuji craned his neck curiously, but was easily distracted by Satoru’s re-directions.

Satoru caught Yuji’s slip-ups more often while they walked. He curiously watched as Yuji’s eyes focused on something that wasn’t there, flickering off into peaceful directions as if there were something attention-grabbing. They were so brief, Yuji could pretend that they hadn’t happened at all.

They stopped by the infirmary for Ierie Shoko, the lead clinical physician, to note down Yuji’s injuries and create a care plan for his wound. She gave her seal of approval for Satoru to take Yuji to his unit, handing Yuji a lollipop on his way out.

“Are you two good friends?” Yuji asked as they walked across the courtyard. “She called you by your given name.”

“Shoko and I went to high school and medical school together,” Satoru confirmed with an approving smile. “Nice catch. She started working here around the same time as me. She’s not very loving, eh?”

“I thought she was nice,” Yuji disagreed lightly. “Are we going to see where I’ll be staying, now?”

“Yep! Building B, otherwise known as Unit Fuji. It’s this building closer to building A. There are eight other patients around your age that you’ll be sharing space with and you’ll have a roommate. All of them are my patients, so you guys have that in common!”

“What’s my roommate like?” Yuji asked, eyes lighting up again.

Satoru chuckled at his enthusiasm, scanning the badge reader and opening the door for Yuji to go in. “Let’s go meet him! I’m sure the two of you will be best friends by the end of the week.”

They walked past the common areas and the art room, where other patients were filling their time. All of them looked up curiously as Satoru passed by with Yuji. Satoru winked at them and Yuji waved sweetly where he caught peoples’ gaze. He was given dirty looks or confused waves back.

They stopped in the residential hallway in front of room B03. All of the doors in the hall were open and most were quiet.

Satoru knocked on the door’s threshold. “Megumi! Guess who I brought!”

The room was half occupied. Each room had two plain beds on either side, the patients given the freedom to decorate their half of the space however they’d like. Megumi’s was simple. He had a dark blue blanket thrown over the bed and a black pillow case tucked around his pillow. His wall was plain, his floor clean, with only two soft-cover books stacked beside the bed.

Megumi was, of course, trying to get a nap in despite probably having only just eaten breakfast. He tiredly opened his eyes, sitting up with red marks on his cheek from his poor sleep. It looked like he had been sleeping directly onto some of his schoolwork, a few half-filled out sheets of paper crumpled between his face and the pillow.

He had the most tired eyes of anyone Satoru had ever met, lines under them deep and with a dull sheen that sometimes made him look like he wasn’t alive.

He scowled at Satoru, glancing at Yuji. “What the hell’s this?”

“Your new roommate! Megumi, this is Itadori Yuji, Yuji, this is Fushiguro Megumi.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Yuji greeted with his smile.

“No,” Megumi snapped. “Nanami told me you’d send the new guy to Haku because they have open rooms. I don’t want a roommate.”

“Don’t get a choice,” Satoru told him firmly. “This is how it’s going to be. Last time you asked, I listened, and you’ve had your own space for almost a month. Most people don’t get that at all. Yuji needs someone around here to show him the ropes.”

Megumi’s scowl didn’t let up, but he glanced at Yuji with reluctance. Luckily Yuji hadn’t mentioned being sensitive in social situations, or else Megumi’s immediate distaste might have done more damage. Satoru wanted to pat himself on the back. Putting these two together is a great idea!

“Whatever. Do what you want,” Megumi grumbled, pulling his legs into a criss-cross and rearranging his homework on top of a book.

Doing homework with a crayon should have been more frustrating, but Megumi didn’t seem to think twice about it.

“Here’s your bed!” Satoru declared with extra excitement, throwing a hand towards the plain-looking sheets on top of a box-like base. “If there’s anything that you want to do to make your space feel more like home while you’re here, let us know. There’s no guarantee that we can do everything, but it never hurts to ask.”

Yuji flopped down on the mattress with all the gangliness of a teenage boy.

He made a sound of approval, tugging the pillow under his head and hugging it as he closed his eyes. “This is nice. I like the window. The sun is making it really warm.”

“Awesome! Glad you like it,” Satoru said. “And don’t mind Megumi—he’s a softie at heart, I promise.”

Yuji glanced at his roommate in disbelief, but then shrugged.

“This wraps up our tour of the main grounds, I’ll leave you in Megumi’s capable hands to get through the rest of the day. If you need anything else, there are nurses and techs all over the unit. I’m sure one will come check on you two soon. Yuji, do you have any last questions for me before I leave you to meet everyone?”

“Oh, is that—it?” Yuji asked, sitting up on the bed again. “Are you going to be gone the rest of the day?”

“I’ll be on the grounds every week day, but unless something crazy happens, no, you probably won’t see me. Worry not! I have weekly check-ins with everyone on Mondays, isn’t that right, Megs?”

“What, you forgot your own schedule?” Megumi deadpanned, not looking up from his homework.

Satoru just smiled. “You'll see me more often until we get you on a medication schedule, though. In the next few days, for sure. Anything else, Yuji?”

“I…I guess not,” Yuji said. “Thanks for the tour, Gojo-sensei.”

“Of course! I’ll let the staff know you’re all settled. Did you eat breakfast already?”

“Yep,” Yuji gave him a thumbs up.

Satoru nodded. “Lunch’s at noon, then. Megs, did you have your check-in with Ijichi, yet?”

Megumi let out an exasperated sigh, but responded, bored, “Yes.”

“How did it go?”

“Fine,” Megumi scoffed. “Don’t you have places to be?”

“Sure do! Good luck today.”

Yuji waved back at him, his smile returning. “See you later.”

Satoru left the two of them to meet each other.

Satoru hummed to himself, pleased with his genius intellect in pairing the two. Yuji was such a sweet, optimistic kid, he’d be great for Megumi. And Megumi was a realist, if nothing else, which might help Yuji come to terms with the fact that his delusions weren’t reality.

Either that or Megumi would throw a fit by the end of the week about it and B’s nurses would have to deal with the fallout—but hey, what else were they paid for?

-

The first time Fushiguro Megumi had tried to kill himself was when he was eleven years old.

Nanami Kento knew this because he knew every word of every file of every patient that he had under his care. He also knew that this wasn’t Fushiguro’s first stay in KHMI, that he had a history of bad reactions to medication, and that Fushiguro never smiled. Not sarcastically, not bitterly, not mockingly. Fushiguro did not smile. Kento knew that he did not smile because everyone who knew Fushiguro knew that.

His eyes, on occasion, bore stark contrast to two empty vats of oil, devoid of life and emotion and will. What little sparks of life had ever breached the surface were not happy moments—they were moments when Fushiguro’s irritation snapped out. The boy didn’t get close with people. And, by no fault of his own, he could not care about anything.

Kento saw Fushiguro Megumi’s smile for the first time in his career two weeks after gaining a roommate.

Similarly, for the first time, Kento began to wonder if Gojo Satoru was not as airheaded as he had always assumed.

That realization was far less exciting. There was nothing Kento hated more than admitting that Satoru was right about anything.